Day CCLXII

Santeria To The Rescue

     “Na, na na I doesn’t wanna see Goige, man…Hail, I dint even wanna see ya ass neida, dude, eva. I don’t wants nabody ta na I don peed on myself, man.”

     Just then, I wondered how she would feel if she knew, I knew, she also shit herself. But of course I didn’t say anything. As matter of fact that I knew that she shit herself destroyed any appeal she may have had in my mind. The thunk of shit running out of her ass, and down her legs…well, I really wasn’t interested in her at all after that notion.

     “Did ya Santa Babawa hep ya any?”

     “Man, I bin praying eva since, went ta mass yestdee, diz moining too, an I ain’t hadn’t bin to a Choich in a long time, dude.”

     “Did it help?”

     “Well, I’m still hea.”

     “Wat did ya Santero say!”

     “Ya believes in Santeria too?”

     “No I’m just curious ta na wat he don tol ya.”

     “Ya na, da usual stuff, man. Da baf, candles, an oda stuff.”

     “How much didit cost ya?”

     “Not much.”

     The Santero gave her a bottle of scented water, full of flower petals; told her to pour it in her bath, lite several candles to Chango and Santa Barbara, then pray as she lay in the bath for a while. It would chase away the the evil spirits, and she would feel better. Of course she would freaking feel better. If she had poured epson salts in the water, she would have felt better. If she had poured herself a jive bubble bath, and luxuriated for a while, it would have had the same effect. As a matter a fact, that’s exactly what she did, so she couldn’t help but feel better.

I’m sure, though she didn’t say, she gave her Santero a small fortune.